Some people have to rubber neck as they drive by a car crash; that's the way I felt about this storm. Sitting in my vacuum-packed cubicle yesterday, I couldn't even tell there was a storm passing by. I had to keep heading to the window to see what was going on. But that simply wasn't good enough. I knew I could convince someone else that we had to go see the storm's fury, and my victim was the department's marine bio postdoc, Sarah. She was a sucker and agreed to accompany me to Pemaquid Point, famous for it's waves, but I thought I'd try to tempt Damon away from his work.
"Damon," said I, "wouldn't you rather be outside than here at your desk? With your honey? And the dog? And Sarah?"
Though he grumbled something about deadlines and grants and students and conferences, I was undeterred. Time to break out the big guns.
"We'll go to Pemaquid . . . ." I said alluringly.
"And we'll stop at the King Eider Pub on our way back," I added, whispering "where you can get a beer . . . ."
Who could resist that?
So off we went. And it was worth it! The waves were just what I wanted to see -- crashing, spume-producing, probably ripping the poor little barnacles right off their rocks (making room for the next generation!). But it was cold, too -- bitter cold with that north wind. So it was a quick trip. Nature's fury was awesome, and so was the warmth of a good pub with friends.
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| Sarah -- can you tell it's cold? |
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| Very gray light. |
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| This was serious surf, although this is one of those things you can never portray in a photo! |
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| Really! The waves were giant! |
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| The promise of sun the next day. Or maybe next week. Or maybe next month . . . . |
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